


By Any Other Name

by ariannenymerosmartell (somethingmoo)



Series: The Connington Series [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, R plus L equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2554154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingmoo/pseuds/ariannenymerosmartell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This drabble is set in the same universe as <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2067117"><strong>Your Eyes are Full of Language</strong></a>. It focuses on the entirely crack concept of Jon Connington and Aegon getting to the wall and meeting Jon Snow. <a class="tumblelog" href="http://tmblr.co/mCjUZC6Wsx4JopzF3nSKCew">celiatully</a> is the most responsible for what is ahead. And blame the person who read the original drabble on Ao3 and told me to write a follow up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is also cross-posted to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2554076/chapters/5678483"><strong>The November Chronicles</strong></a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble is set in the same universe as [**Your Eyes are Full of Language**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2067117). It focuses on the entirely crack concept of Jon Connington and Aegon getting to the wall and meeting Jon Snow. [celiatully](http://tmblr.co/mCjUZC6Wsx4JopzF3nSKCew) is the most responsible for what is ahead. And blame the person who read the original drabble on Ao3 and told me to write a follow up.
> 
>  
> 
> It is also cross-posted to [**The November Chronicles**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2554076/chapters/5678483).

They call the boy Lord Snow. Some say it loyally, respectfully. Others snidely, crudely. The title is an insult and an honor both, but the boy wears it well.

_As Rhaegar would have_ , Jon Connington thinks to himself. _The boy has more of his father than he knows_.

And yet, when Jon thinks of the boy's true name _Jon Snow_ , he cannot help but feel it wrong in his mind and on his tongue. _His_ name is Jon, and while he would love to lose himself in the fancy that Rhaegar had named his child for him, he doubts Rhaegar even knew of the boy's existence.

And certainly _Lyanna_ _Stark_ would not have named the child for him. Lyanna did not know him. Lyanna would have named the babe for the brother she loved best, the brother who died, _Brandon._

But his name is Jon, and that can only have come from Eddard Stark, honoring his foster father through the boy he'd claimed as his bastard for so many years.

_But he is not a bastard_ , Jon thinks as he hears some of the black brothers mutter, whenever Lord Snow gives a command they do not like. Lord Snow merely tries to save them, to protect the realm, but the men do not see. They have given up hope, have resigned themselves to death, resent Lord Snow for his unwavering dedication to his vows. 

Jon admires the boy for the way he shoulders their disapproval, another burden, albeit a small one, to rest on his shoulders. And though he is as lithe and toned as Rhaegar had been, Lord Snow shoulders each and every burden well.

Sometimes, when Jon cannot sleep at the wall, when it is too cold, and his fingers too stiff, and he stares at the grey skin, coloring his knuckles, he tries to imagine what Rhaegar would have named the boy had he lived, and had he known _._ Lyanna would have wanted Brandon, he is sure of that, but _Brandon Targaryen_ would just have been silly, and Rhaegar would have made her see sense.

He wracks his brain, and thinks _Daeron_ , mayhaps, for Daeron the Good, because surely Rhaegar would have wanted his son to be good. But then Jon remembers that Daeron had taken a Dornish Princess to wife, had given his sister to Dorne. Rhaegar would not have insulted Princess Elia that way, to name another son-- a son that wasn't hers-- a name so closely tied to her motherland.

_And there weren't a great many songs about Daeron, even in his goodness_. Jon remembers. Rhaegar would have wanted his son to have a name from a song.

Sometimes he thinks they might have chosen _Orys_ for the Conqueror's famed half-brother, his wise Hand who had given him good counsel and helped him win his Kingdom. But Orys had been a _Baratheon_ , and even if Rhaegar had won, it would have been unwise to name a babe after a Baratheon.

And though there were a great many songs about Orys, Lyanna might not have taken kindly to naming her child for a Baratheon whom she'd run away from.

And life had not been a song for the boy. Raised as a bastard, sent to the Night's Watch, fighting the very cold itself. Life had not been a song for the boy, and he bore it well enough, save for his eyes, his _grey_ eyes, so much older than his sixteen years.

"Being Lord Snow has aged me," the boy had japed one evening as they sat in his solar and poured over legends and lore of the Others, looking for some way to quell the rising tides of the undead. "My father did tell me the life of a bastard on the Wall would be no easy thing."

_But you are not a bastard!_ Jon thinks, angry at the title, angry at distinction Westeros made between naturalborn and trueborn, as if naturalborn children could not be good, and as if trueborn children could never be evil. _And he is not your father_.

_Gregor Clegane_ _was trueborn_ , Jon thinks, wincing for the end Princess Elia met. _I'd rather have a thousand bastards than one Clegane_.

But even if Lord Snow were a bastard, he'd be Jon _Sand_ not Snow. He would have been born in the Red Mountains of Dorne, not in the cold, snowy North.

_He'd be Jon Blackfyre_   _in truth,_ Jon thinks to himself one morning as he watches Lord Snow train with the men in the yard. He wields Longclaw like he was born to it; his movements are neat, and precise, and deadly. Some of the more bitter men mutter this is a bastard sword for a bastard commander, and others argue that he has no right to the Valyrian steel. _He's not Mormont's son_ , someone muttered and Jon had resisted rolling his eyes, but just barely. 

_A Valyrian sword for a bastard_ , Jon thinks. _Daemon Blackfyre_ _then_. _Lord Snow would be Daemon Blackfyre._

But even that sounds wrong, because Rhaegar would not have sired a bastard on the Stark girl. He would have wed her, taken her as a second wife, as the Targaryens and Valyrians of old. His children by her would have been _trueborn_ , Princes and Princesses of the blood, noble, and royal and wise, and fair, just as Rhaegar himself had been.

_Just as Lord Snow is_ , Jon thinks with a touch of pride. _Just as Aegon is_. And Jon frowns then because should Lord Snow be a _Daemon_ _Blackfyre_ , it does not bode well for his relationship with Aegon _. And thus far the two have been naught but courteous._

Both men were raised to respect and honor those around them, and they treated each other with that same respect, though the warmth--the warmth of brother-- was not there. 

_Because they do not know_ , Jon thinks often, feeling anguish over the decision to keep the truth from them both. _Because I have no proof._

Jon battles himself over this often. He longs to tell the boy the truth of his parents-- longs to tell him that he is a _Prince_ the rightful Prince of Dragonstone, Aegon's heir till he should produce children of his own. _But he has no proof_ , and saying _you have your father's eyes_ will not work, not when Lord Snow's eyes are grey, grey, _grey_ like his mother's and his _uncle's._

_Not when I already champion one Targaryen thought to be long dead_ , Jon thinks grimly, not deaf to the whispers that plague him and Aegon _._ _To produce another none knew existed... that would be too much_.

Who would support Aegon's claim if people thought Jon was just naming any young boys of doubtful parentage as Targaryen _._ None would flock to Aegon's banner, none would see him crowned king.

_But they are brothers, and Princes both_ , Jon thinks, and is suddenly startled to find that Aegon has joined Jon in the training yard, and that the two are fighting-- with tourney swords, at least-- each blow, each movement, each breath even more graceful than the last.

_Don't they see?_ Jon wonders of the other men staring down at them _._ _Don't they see that they are brothers? Rhaegar's seed, the blood of the Dragon_?

Jon Snow knocks Aegon down then, and Aegon yields, laughing. The boy extends a hand and pulls Aegon up to his feet, and Aegon clasps his shoulder in gratitude. The boy just nods thoughtfully-- no gloating, no japes-- and gives only a small smile in acknowledgement of his victory.

_Humble, wise, kind, and a warrior,_ Jon thinks, nodding in approval. And then it hits him.

_Aemon_. _He would have been an Aemon_.

There were many songs about the Dragonknight. Many songs about his chivalry, and bravery. About his love for his brother, and his unquestionable loyalty to his vows.

_He would have been Aemon Targaryen,_ Jon thinks wonderingly, and with a pang remembers that there had been another Aemon Targaryen at the wall.

Jon wonders if he knew. If Maester Aemon Targaryen had sensed that there was another Dragon at the wall, that Rhaegar's son was under his tutelage. _That his namesake was near_.

_Aemon_ , Jon thinks with a smile, as he looks at the boy with Rhaegar's eyes and Rhaegar's melancholy, and Rhaegar's strength.

His Aegon and the boy-- _Aemon_ , he tell himself-- are in the yard taking, and Jon feels his heart pounding in his chest. _The Conqueror, and the Dragonknight come again_ , Jon thinks, but that doesn't seem right either.

_Mayhaps the singers will name them the Unlikeliest and the Snow Dragon_.

Jon almost laughs to himself. He'd leave the names for the singers. In front of him, and with him, he has Aegon and Aemon Targaryen, and together they will stop the Long Night, these _Princes_ who were promised.

_I have your sons,_ _Rhaegar_ , Jon prays. _Do you see?_


End file.
